Music:So I stole one kiss, it was a near miss. She looked at me like I was Jack the Ripper

The sound of new rain

The grey sky shivered in the tiny pool formed on the dark, grey walkway, teased by the spitting rain. Bright green moss oozes slowly, slowly, from the cracks of the stone, drinking up the soft falling water.

It is new rain on the new year. Everyone is delighted that 2016 has ended and now 2017 has a fresh start, new year, new life, new hope.

Except, of course, for the Jews and Chinese who look at this day as if it were a bank holiday. Might as well take the day off.

It takes one year from the Earth to roll around the sun and we should be roughly in the same place astronomically speaking as we were last year, and the year before and the century or two before that.

It is this point in the universal calendar where we round-eye goyim reflect on what we did while spinning around the sun.

I was promoted to Lieutenant and retired after 21 years of police service to my community. I received accolades from the Governor for my work and dedication to stop domestic violence. I published Shard's Thugs. I also began a new path, one of uncertainty, but a path non-the-less, to follow my life long passion of voice acting.

That's enough for one year, isn't it?

For years I refused to make resolutions for the New Year, but this year will be different.

1. Stay away from Facebook. Once a day. That's all I need.2. Minimize playing computer games and other mindless things.3. Read more.4. Write more.5. Draw more.6. Dedicate time to work on the Bug. I will have in running again in 2017.7. Pay particular attention to number 6.8. Pay particular attention to number 4. Live journal posts are writing. Anything writing is writing but LJ is comprised of whole sentences and thoughts. Restricted sentences are restricted thoughts. Restricted thoughts are choking.

Today I spent time moving logs around until the rain became insistent. I then stood under the eave watching it fall invisibly, its only passing was marked by the quiver of the tiny puddles in the stone walk way.

21 years of writing police reports has killed by ability to talk like a person, think in whole sentences. It is time to get all that back and then some.